Sherlock Finds the Internet
by Truly Sherlockian
Summary: Sherlock and John find fanfiction. Chaos ensues. No slash, no romance, all humor!
1. Chapter 1

John found a website he hadn't seen before. It was full of fanfics about different T.V. shows. Going to a page about some recent stories he found some Sherlock. Getting even more curios he read the story.

Sherlock came out of his mind palace. His eyes refocusing. He looked at his flat mate sitting opposite him. John's eyes were as huge as dinner plates. He appeared to be holding his breath as well. Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

John exhaled quickly and slammed the laptop shut. "Bloody hell..." he whispered. "Spaghetti sauce..." He stared at Sherlock, seeing him in a whole new light.

"John?" Asked Sherlock, curios why John was searching him over like that. "What were you reading? Is it a case?" Sherlock asked, getting somewhat excited.

"No! No it bloody well wasn't!" John blinked, trying to rid the image of his flat mate kissing him. He squirmed deeper in his chair.

"What did you read?" Sherlock asked. Wondering what he could've read to make him twitch like that.

"Nothing! It's just... Read for yourself!" He opened his laptop and tapped the password in. Then handed it to Sherlock. Watching carefully, he watched as Sherlock started reading. His eyes were narrow, then blinking, the turned wide and stared. Flicking back and forth over the screen, taking in each word. He peered at John over the screen, widened his eyes even more, then returned to the screen. Finished, he very slowly closed the laptop. Then just stared at the silver top. "Well, it was..."

"Enjoy it?" John asked.

"It was... erm..." Sherlock seemed lost for words. He was quickly trying to delete everything, but the image of John doing that... Sherlock shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

John took back the laptop. Quickly closing it and placing it on the table next to him. The awkward silence filled the rest of the day.

That evening the two were heading for Molly at the hospital. They walked at a faster clip past the pasta restaurant. At the morgue they found Molly glued to the computer. Eyes quickly sliding over the screen. She held her mouth open and stared in horror. She looked at Sherlock and _screamed_. Then quickly turned off the internet and jumped up. "Sher-Sherlock. John. How-er-how are you?" She stammered. Shaking all over and twitching her fingers. She seemed to be repeating, "Elevator... elevator... elevator..." staring at her feet.

John and Sherlock quickly concluded that she found the website.

**I will be adding another chapter soon! :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

John walked in a week later from his bedroom upstairs to find Sherlock scanning the computer screen (John's computer screen) with his fingers forming a small steeple in front of his mouth. "What're you reading, Sherlock? A case?"

"Mmm, more fanfiction…" Sherlock said to the laptop.

"Sh-Sherlock! Why the bloody hell would you read _that_ again?!" John asked, nearly jumping out of his chair.

"I'm trying to decipher why they _insist_ on killing me." He said through his fingertips.

John leaned over Sherlock's shoulder. The title read "All Alone on the Lake." John scanned a few lines.

"I'm aware I'm talking to him, but I have no idea what I'm saying. I might be telling him that I love him, I might be telling him I always have. And I always will."

John widened his eyes and peered closer. He realized Sherlock was, well, _dead_. Oh well, John had already been there, done that.

Sherlock hummed and kept reading. Raising an eyebrow occasionally. John swore under his breath and went to the kitchen for a cup of strong tea. Or… perhaps some coffee.

Mrs. Hudson walked in and was unusually quiet. And wasn't making eye contact with either of them. "Brought you two some cake…" She was just about to quietly leave when John stopped her. "You on some new medication, Hrs. Hudson? You're quiet."

"And it's nice…" Sherlock mumbled scrolling on the mouse.

"Oh-I'm fine, dear… I ummm- nothing!" Mrs. Hudson flustered. "Just… found a… website…"

"Ohhh….!" John nodded taking a sip of his coffee.

"John… Can you come here?" Sherlock asked.

"What's up?" He said glancing to his side watching Mrs. Hudson quickly walk down the stairs.

"Have you seen some of the pictures?" Sherlock clicked on a new tab and pulled up some pictures of John and Sherlock massaging each other…

John and Sherlock hugging quite intimately…

John and Sherlock kissing…("Bloody hell!")

John and Sherlock in bed…

John and Sherlock—"CHRIST! Jesus, Sherlock! Can you believe their nerve?!"

Sherlock looked amused…

**Next chapter will have Molstrade and Sherliarty. **


	3. Chapter 3

Things were awkward after Molly found the internet. Especially things like: Elevators… Fruit… Playgrounds… She had a hard time around Sherlock. He seemed amused about the whole thing.

But Lestrade was having fun…

When there was a Jane Doe in, Lestrade came around for a visit with Sherlock. Molly looked up from the veins she was pulling out of the wrist. "Oh, um, Detective Inspector. Hello." She twitched and smiled. "Um, nice… day?"

"Molly! Hello! Call me Greg!" He held his hand out. He knew what he was doing.

"Erm. Greg." She shook very quickly and went back to the wrist, which was twitching about as much as she was when she hit different muscles. Lestrade chuckled at his work.

Sherlock watched the whole exchange between the two with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't seen _this_ part of the fanfiction net… yet. So he was very curious about what made Molly get even twitchier.

"Right… Molly, do you have those toenails I asked for?" Sherlock inquired.

"Yes, um. Let me… I think they're in the pantry." She placed her scalpel back on the silver tray.

"Oh, let me help!" Lestrade said, following Molly into the back.

"Um, thanks?" Molly said, not making eye contact with _anyone_. Lestrade followed her into the back and stood right in front of her before slowly reaching up and grabbing the nails from the high shelf. When he looked back down he saw Molly was quickly walking out of the room. He smiled and followed her.

Sherlock was confused as to why Molly was panting and why Grahm was smiling like that. He took the bag and thanked Molly, then left into the hall with Greg.

"What did you do to Molly?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, just something I read online last night." Greg chuckled. Sherlock nodded then looked at Greg. Greg looked up and caught Sherlock's eye. They started laughing together. Sherlock would be sure to apologize later to Molly for Grahm.

.oOo.

Far away in a large manor, there was a figure stretched back in an overstuffed chair, with a laptop balanced on his crossed legs. He was slowly scrolling down a page, chuckling softly to himself. "Look's like we've rather got ourselves a public image, doesn't it? Mr. Sherlock Holmes…" He smiled. His phone chimed, when he reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Caller ID read, "Irene Adler." He grinned and answered, "Jim Moriarty."

**Moriarty probably won't meet Sherlock. Don't really want this to turn into a serious plot. Just a light drabble.**

**Thanks for reading! I think this story is over! But it sure was fun to write!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I said I wasn't going to write another chapter for this, but for some reason I keep getting more and more followers for this, though I'm not sure why, and finally after 10(!) followers, I decided I'd do another.**

**I'm not sure about this, so I'd appreciate some reviews**!

Molly had begun to avoid Lestrade and even Sherlock and John at almost all costs. Mrs. Hudson had gotten incredibly skittish, and Sherlock had gotten weird emails from a CtingCinal.*

All in all, things were difficult.

So, Sherlock being Sherlock, decided he was going to "fix" it.

John walked in the flat the next evening, to see Sherlock typing away on his (John's) laptop. "Couldn't be bothered to get your own?" He said, dumping the groceries on the counter, avoiding the fermenting jaw in the plastic container.

"Mmm, in the bedroom."

"Legs broken?" John mumbled putting the jam in the top cupboard. "Mmm?" Came from Sherlock, though it was obvious he wasn't expecting an answer. "What're you typing anyway? New client?" John asked.

"No…" Sherlock said, looking at the screen, reading what he just wrote. "Then what?"

"Fan. Fiction." He said, saying each word sternly. As though he hated it phrased that way. (And he probably did.)

John nearly dropped the cake he was putting in the refrigerator. "Wh-Sher-How-Wha-WHY?!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John. "Isn't it obvious?" He then began typing.

"No, it bloody well isn't!" John said, slamming the door to the refrigerator.

"Then come read what I've written." Sherlock tapped a few more words. John looked skeptically at Sherlock and walked over. He then read:

_Molly had begun to avoid Lestrade and even Sherlock and John at almost all costs. Mrs. Hudson had gotten incredibly skittish, and Sherlock had gotten weird emails from a CtingCinal._

"You're… writing a fanfiction about us finding fanfiction?" John said, raising an eyebrow. Then watching Sherlock type down what he just said.

"Mmm, yes. I'm hoping it might, I don't know, break the ice? Isn't that what humor does?" He then typed that down.

"Stop typing everything I say." John said. "No seriously, Sherlock. Knock it off. Stop. Stop!" He then sighed exasperated and walked back to the kitchen.

Sherlock smiled and typed out he just smiled. He was going to have fun with this.

***The email address is Consulting Criminal. Moriarty is emailing him, and of course, Sherlock has worked this out. Now seriously, this is the last chapter, there's not a lot more I can do with this. So stop following. No seriously, stop. This is not, Sherlock typing, this is me. There will be no more story!**


	5. Chapter 5

Alright, you guys asked for another one. So fine, HERE! But seriously, LAST CHAPTER!

The morgue was quiet, as you would hope in a room full of dead people. Molly was enjoying the heavy silence. She was pulling some veins out of a wrist to analyze, when the door suddenly burst open startling, Molly with Sherlock carrying a… laptop?

"Ooh! Sherlock! You startled me!" She smiled. "Everything… okay?" She blinked, watching Sherlock type down a few words.

"Yes. I need that report on the blood from the bank robbery." Sherlock typed. Then typed down he typed. Then typed that down, etc. etc….

"Oh, that! Um, I put that in the cafeteria…" Molly said, _clearly_ indicating Sherlock was to get it tomorrow. But seeing as the reader can't see Molly's blushing face right now, Sherlock felt the need to type it down.

"Could you get it for me?" Sherlock said smiling. And placing the laptop on the corpse Molly was in the middle of analyzing.

"I, uh, yes! I mean, yeah. I'll get it… when I'm finished with this," She indicated the boring wrist that was not part of the case I was working on.

"I kind of need it now, Molly." Sherlock said. Being rude? Maybe. Ask John later.*

Molly fidgeted for a second when she finally decided that the corpse wasn't nearly as important as Sherlock's case, she fetched the blood work report immediately. Or… possibly, she was trying to be nice.**

But nevertheless, she kept Sherlock waiting here. With only human remains to look at. So now Sherlock has nothing to do but type using a corpse as a table. Not even complete with a chair.

But Sherlock, using his mind (like some people refuse to do) was able to find entertainment. Like showing the reader how to "read" people. Like Sherlock's table for instance:

Going by the left thumb he was a pilot. Using his thumb to flip the switches on the plane while flying…

And what's this? Keeping up appearances going by the botox injections and hair dye…

Sportsman going by the old knee injury down here…

Wife an animal lover going by the scratches on the hand, Sherlock knew it was a wife because a pilot most likely wouldn't own an animal unless there was someone to care for it, probably a wife going by the lack of a tan going around the ring finger on the right hand after they removed the ring…***

Oh, Molly's back.

"Here's the papers…" She said, handing them to Sherlock. Who, obviously was right on his theory. "Um, Sherlock, what're you typing?" She said, indicating his laptop.****

"Oh, nothing. Just, taking notes." Sherlock lied.*****

But after she noticed he had to close the laptop.

***That was very rude, Sherlock**. Don't put notes in here, John, especially when I already finished the story.

****Yes, that was her being nice, Sherlock. People do these things. I know it's foreign to you, but it is possible.** It's not "foreign" to me, John. I just don't really care.

*****You can't spend 5 minutes alone without bloody showing off?!** It's not showing off when I'm teaching people.

******MY laptop. As in JOHN'S laptop**. You left it on the table. It's fair game.

*******Right, yeah, nice. Lie to the woman who helped you.** What she doesn't know won't irritate me.** What's that supposed to mean?** If she knows about this then she'll obviously tell everyone about it. **Right, yeah, whatever.** Correct. LEAVE MY FANFICTION ALONE!

**Now seriously, people. It's OVER.**


	6. Chapter 6

People liked Sherlock's stories apparently. Not sure why, it was more mindless rambling. A bit like John's prose on his blog.*

Nevertheless, Sherlock decided to sit in his chair and write some more.

John walked in the flat. Sherlock noticed for the third time this week how much weight John had gained. Roughly 3 pounds a week. In Mycroft's words, Sherlock needed to take the dog out to play more often.**

John noticed Sherlock typing. "Writing more fanfiction then?" He asked, waddling over to the fridge, bringing out some left-over takeout. Sherlock hummed in reply, typing.

"And I suppose you're taking down everything I say?" Sherlock typed some more.***

Just then the phone rang, Sherlock typed that down and ignored the ringtone, knowing John would answer. ****

"Hello?" John answered. Sherlock could overhear the conversation.

"Yeah, we've got a case Sherlock might be interested in. Is he around?"

"Yeah, he's right here. He's not going to talk though."*****

"Right, just shove the phone in his face then."

Dnrjnn

"What? I'm busy."

"You know wha—What's that ticking noise?"

"I'm typing. Now what?"

"What are you typing? You're not re-doing the 40 different types of tobacco ash, are you?"

"No. Now what?!" Sherlock said, getting irritated.

"We've got a case down at the beach."

"Is it above an eight?"

"I don't know, it—Could you just stop typing for a second? …Hello?"

"Is it above an eight?" Sherlock repeated.******

"Just come and see!" Lestrade hung up on the other end.******* Sherlock typed he hung up and dropped the phone. "Come on, John. Lestrade want to see us at the beach." Sherlock finished typing.

***If you don't like it, Sherlock, then don't bother reading it**. _I have to make sure you aren't writing things that aren't true. _**Like what?**_ Mary and your "good" relationship._ **What our relationship?! **_I heard you two arguing yesterday._**SO WHAT?! Couples argue all the time**! _This is how divorces begin, John. This is the end coming. _

****Right. First of all, I'M NOT YOU'RE DOG! Secondly, I'M NOT YOU'RE DOG!** _*_Your. *Your.

*****You could have replied, you know. **_What for? You knew the answer._

******I'm not your service dog, Sherlock.**_ And oddly enough, you still answered. _

*******God knows the Great Sherlock Holmes is incapable of holding a phone. **_Not. _**Is. **_Isn't. _**Is. **_Isn't. _**IS. **_ISN'T!_

********Ignoring people doesn't solve everything you know. What, no reply this time? Oh, I see, you're ignoring me. Brilliant, Sherlock. Really bloody brilliant. **_Thank you, John. You do have a knack for pointing out the obvious. _**Wait, what? Did you just ignore me so I'd say that? **_Again, a marvelous knack for pointing out the obvious._

*********Sometimes I'd like to do that, in real life.**_We've seen how well you get along without me a while ago. Then you married a killer and gotten yourself involved with a master villain. A very interesting case, I must admit. Perhaps leaving you alone was a brilliant idea after all. __**[Removed by author.]**_


End file.
